The Peach Blossom Spring
by dragonofeternal
Summary: Judal yearns for future grander than that of a peasant farmer. Hakuryuu seeks to cement his eldest brother's claim to the throne of Kou. / A world in which Al Tharman did not succeed in their coup, and in which they never found an infant magi in the northern reaches of Kou.
1. The Peach Tree's Son

"Judaaaal!"

Judal shifted in his treetop perch, ignoring his elder sister's call. The gentle breezes of early spring had given way to the hot, humid days that would in time turn to the endless rain of late summer. It was hot, humid weather, and Judal wanted no part of it. Even sitting still and shaded by branches, sweat pricked at Judal's brow. He couldn't imagine being down in the orchards picking peaches that were still too ripe to enjoy with everyone else. It sounded hellish. He yanked a branch free of the tree and began to strip the leaves and and smaller sprouts off it until it was a makeshift wand. Not as polished as his real one, back in his room in town, but enough that he could stir the rukh of the wind to pick up the breeze.

"Judal!" his sister called again, her voice closer this time. "Judal, I know you're out here. I feel that breeze! You can't just laze around around in a tree all day while the rest of us work!"

Judal shut his eyes and pretended not to hear, but it was too late. His sister chucked a rock up into the branches, and it whizzed just past his ear. Judal yelped in terror and flailed, knocking himself out of the tree. His sister leaned over him and grinned. He scowled back.

"Up, up, you lazy boy!" she laughed, gently nudging him with a foot. Judal sprawled more, refusing her missive.

"Noooo… I already did my work! I made it rain and kept it the right temperature and everything before the blossoms even showed up and all through the spring as the leaves came out! Why should I have to go break my back picking peaches and getting all hot and sweaty like everyone else?"

Judal's sister grabbed him by the arm and hauled him to his feet. "Because work is good for you, and you don't get to just play at being special because you can wave around a stick and make it rain." She smiled, slapping him on the back to get him working. "Besides, you like climbing trees and picking peaches!"

"Not when it's work," Judal grumbled, finally starting to walk back down the shaded, foot-worn path to the village. "And it's not a stick, it's a wand."His sister rolled her eyes and made a hurry up gesture. Judal made a point to move as slow as he could stand.

The sloping hills that surrounded their quiet, mountainside village gently led them down from tall, gnarled trees that grew amidst groves of bamboo to the modest dirt thoroughfare that would take them down to the village and, if they walked long enough, down to the village beyond them, and the village beyond that one, and on and on until it met the imperial road that ran all the way to the capitol.

Judal had never been farther than the copse of trees a half day's walk between his village and the next, and he was beginning to suspect he never would.

His brother and father called joyously out to him and his sister as they approached, and his sister answered their call with a wave and a smile.

"I got him!"

Judal's brother laughed and ruffled his hair. "You're lucky! Last time I tried to collect him, he floated away!"

Judal shoved his brother away. "Eugh! You're all sweaty!" He rubbed at the shoulder of his shirt where his brother had leaned against him as though it might get the sweat and heat off. "Besides, it's too hot to fly. I can't spend that sort of energy!"

"Lazy," his brother teased, and Judal pouted even deeper.

The chatter and song of his fellow villagers, like the chatter of a dinner table but greater, spread out across the orchards and rose to the sky, happy and clear as the sky above. Judal tossed his makeshift wand aside to clamber up into the trees. He climbed, light and spry enough to reach the highest branches and pluck the peaches that were the perfect level of pre-ripeness to be packaged and shipped to the capitol as tax or for sale in the markets. From there he bounced from branch to branch, buoyed by the wind he had called and humming along with the work song below.

He didn't hate the labor as much as his complaining suggested. He just preferred the work of rainmaking, or wind calling, or of coaxing the rukh of the air warmer or colder to suit whatever was needed to best aid the harvest. Even more than that he enjoyed his stolen moments, running barefoot, half flying, up into the hills and mountains, where he listened in secret to the whispers of the great flow that only he could see. There he practiced magic that was not at all practical, playing at being a great hero of myth who could rain destruction or fly like a bird to stop the forces of evil. It was simply childish fun, though. It wasn't the sort of thing you could build a life on, not as a boy struggling to be seen as more than just the youngest child.

But his heart yearned, and yearning made him resentful at times.

Judal was grateful when the hazy blanket of twilight enveloped the orchards, and the calls of mothers (not only his own) drew husbands and sons back to their homes. His sister greeted them at the door, and they joined his mother and grandparents at the worn table to eat.

"I have heard," his grandfather said, with the tone that suggested he was about to start a long and rambling story about some gossip from the next town over, "that the unrest in the capitol has finally settled, and that the next Emperor has been crowned."

Judal perked up. This was far more interesting a story than he'd anticipated. "Really?"

His grandfather nodded, stroking the stray, wispy hairs on his chin that weren't quite a beard. "Yes… I mean, it's probably old news there, since we're just hearing of it, but..." Everyone leaned forward, not wanting to jostle the old man into not telling his story, but eager to hear his news. "Ah, well, it's still important enough to share!" He grinned devilishly, and beckoned the family closer. "They say that following a great fire and an attempted coup, the Dowager Empress has been ousted from the throne for attempting to murder the crown princes! Some say she was even the one who sent the assassins from Gai to-"

Judal groaned. "Grandfather, that's all old news! We've heard this already."

"Shh," his father hissed. "Let your grandfather talk."

Thankfully, Judal's outburst did not deter the old man, who had already decided to tell his tale. "Well, now that the Dowager has been driven out, the capitol has slowly returned to peace. The crown prince has recovered, and has taken the throne, and all shall be right again. But! The Emperor had been badly injured in the fire, so many say he may not be fit to keep the various states of Kou in check!"

"Rubbish," Judal's father said. "I served with Hakuren. He was barely more than a boy, but he was an honorable man and a great leader. Yet he always insisted his brother to be twice the man he was! Those who speak him ill are probably eunuchs and bureaucrats with no idea of how to run a war or a country!"

"That's it exactly though! It's the bureaucrats, and some of the generals too, I hear tell! There are some who say Koutoku, the late Emperor's brother, should take the throne."

"Did he fight in the war?" Judal's older brother asked, reaching for more food.

"No, he's a coward! Never even picked up a sword to aid his own brother in unifying our land."

Judal watched the debate with interest, listening to his father and brother and grandfather loudly talk about the merits of various men they'd served with, and how bureaucrats had no spines and no balls. The food was good, and the heat of the night faded to an afterthought as the meal wore on. "I wish I could have had exciting war stories like you," Judal said.

"You should be grateful to have been born in such a peaceful time," Judal's mother scolded. "Your father and grandfather worked hard so that the Emperor's vision for a peaceful Kou could be brought to life. Many men lost their lives." And to her daughter, she said, "You should be grateful you will never have to know the worry of watching your husband go to war and fearing he will not return."

Judal's sister nodded sagely. "Of course, mother."

Judal sunk low in his seat. He hadn't been wishing for war, he just said he wanted a more exciting life like the one his father and grandfather had led. Was that so much to ask? His mother was starting to ask about their day in the fields, and Judal opened his mouth to interrupt. "But what was the new emperor like?"

"I served under his brother," his father said, "and your grandfather was old enough that he did not see much action on the frontier. It's not as though I knew the emperor personally, Judal."

"But you must have at least seen-"

"Judal!" His mother barked. "That is quite enough of that. It's not appropriate talk for a-" and here she sucked in a breath through her nose and loudly exhaled, like a dragon preparing to breathe fire, "for a child of your age."

Judal wilted at the word "child" but said nothing more. He cleaned his plate without another word, sitting until it was polite to excuse himself from the table to go to bed. There he lay sleepless and staring, thinking of war, and emperors, and the world beyond the dirt road and the peach orchards. Judal scrubbed his face with his hands, trying to scrub those thoughts from his minds. Eventually his siblings joined him in their room, and his grandparents, and the house and village fell into blessed silence.

But Judal didn't sleep. He couldn't sleep. He sat up, silent as he could, and tip-toed out of the room. The main room was dark, but Judal had lived there his whole life and knew the layout perfectly. He stole his way to the wooden box where his parents stored his wand when not in use. As though they could keep it from him, hah! The smooth peach wood pulsed in his hand as he turned the rod over in his hands. His father had made it for him, whittled and sanded and polished the wood smooth, and when Judal was first given it, his grandfather told him that peach wood was blessed of many divine properties. Judal had nodded along and let his aged grandfather talk. While Judal liked to think his wand was in some way special and that his father had taken great care in choosing what to make it out of, he was fairly certain that peach wood had been chosen because there was just so damn much of it in their village.

Wand in hand, Judal slipped out into the starlight with a sigh. The air was still warm and damp, and was just as uncomfortable as the inside of his house. Judal needed a break if he was going to sleep. He walked to the edge of town where the land sloped slightly into the half-underground cold storage huts. There he could get some coolness without expending magic, and maybe sneak a few peaches while he was there. Judal pulled the heavy door open and relished the slightly colder air with a sigh, slipping in. Blissful cold. Blissful solitude. Blissful-

There was a noise coming from the darkness.

Judal froze against the door. What was in here? An animal? But an animal couldn't have undone the door to come in. So a person then, a person who was here to steal their harvest, or attack unwary villagers who came to check on the fruit (not steal a snack or laze about mind you, just, check on it, like a responsible villager would). Judal swallowed thickly. He could run and pretend he'd seen nothing, leaving the responsibility of dealing with the mysterious intruder to whatever poor schmuck came into the storage next… but no. No, he was Judal, grand rain bringer of this tiny village, and he wasn't going to run and hide like a child.

He was going to find this intruder and take care of the situation himself.

Judal gripped the rod of peach wood like a club as he crept into the dark, cold storage hut. He could hear something moving, breathing, he was certain of it. Pale moonlight filtered in in weak slats through the side of the building, and Judal's heart hammered in his chest as he moved through barrels and towards the sound. What would swinging this even do? His arms were limp noodles, and the rod was so thin it would probably crack if he struck with any kind of force. Yet he clung to it like a cudgel, ready to strike..

Behind a collection of jars, Judal found his mark, and without even thinking he cracked him over the head with his wand. To his surprise, it held, and the man yelped like a struck dog, staggering to his feet and away from Judal.

"Ow, ow, owww!" the man whined, holding his head. "What was that for?!"

"Who are you?" Judal demanded. He'd never seen a man like this before: his hair was pale, and his clothes were strange. "What are you doing in our storage? Are you-" Judal noticed now the peach stones littering the floor and the half eaten peach in the man's hand. "You're stealing our peaches! I'm gonna get in trouble for this, they'll think I did it!"

"He-hey now, you wouldn't deny a hungry old man food-" Judal swung out at the intruder and he staggered back a few feet with a yelp to avoid being hit again. "Hey now, hey! Listen! I'm not going to try to hurt you, I just am a harmless wanderer who needed a nice quiet place to escape the heat and get some sleep!"

Judal glared suspiciously, but he didn't strike again. "Okay…. So who are you, then, Mister?"

The strange man adjusted his clothes, sinking back down to the floor. "I'm nobody important. Just a traveller."

"Uh huh." Judal eyed him up and down again, noting for the first time the odd, thin walking stick the man carried. It had a length of vine tied along it, and for a moment Judal wondered if it were a makeshift fishing pole. Then he noticed the red jewel at the end, and his heart skipped a beat. "Hey…" Judal said slowly. "Hey, are you a magician?"

The man smiled. "Clever of you to notice. Most don't." He reached out, and the rukh fluttered to his hand. Judal watched in wonder. "Although I would expect as much from a young man like you."

Judal sank to the floor in front of the wandering magician. "What's your name? Where did you come from? Did you come here by magic?" Judal's mind was abuzz with questions. This man was obviously a foreigner, from strange lands, who probably came here by stranger magics, and he wanted to know everything.

The traveller laughed, holding up his hands to defend himself from the onslaught of Judal's questions. "Now, now, I'm no one quite so important. I'm simply Yunan, Yunan the Wanderer."

"Yunan…" Judal repeated. "Well, even if you aren't important, you must at least have stories from your adventures, right?"

Yunan smiled gently. "I suppose. You've never been far from this village, have you?" Judal shook his head. "Well, then how about I entertain you with a folktale I've heard in my travels?"

"Kay." Judal fished a peach from the same open jar Yunan had been eating from and settled in for the story.

"I have heard a tale told in many lands," Yunan began, "from the cities of Reim to the flat expanse of the Tenzan Plateau, and even farther still to the deserts of Heliohopt and the icy reaches of Imuchakk. It is a tale of three grand sorcerers of creation who guide the fate of this world. They are said to be beloved by the rukh, and in the rukh it is said that they can see the great flow of the universe. Each is driven by the great flow to seek out their chosen king and give them the power to change the world." Yunan shifted his staph, and in the fluttering wings of the rukh, Judal saw glimpses of far off plains and frozen tundras, of deep, craggy valleys and grand, tall cities. "These grand sorcerers, these three magi, are the only ones who can raise the dungeons where djinn reside and kings are chosen."

"Dungeons," Judal said softly.

"Yes," Yunan replied. "Ever since the wandering magi raised the first dungeon twelve years ago, the mark of a great country has been whether or not they have a magi's dungeon capturer in their midst." Yunan laughed. "Kou is quite unusual. To have amassed such an emperor without a djinn's metal vessel is hardly the norm in this age."

Judal sighed and closed his eyes. Far off lands. Dangerous adventures. "Wish I could see one. Too bad I'm stuck here."

"Do you not like your village?" Yunan asked politely.

"That's not it…" Judal stared into the brilliant fluttering of the rukh again. "I just… There's this hole, you know?" He clutched a hand over his heart. "Like there's something I need to find, something I need to do, and I'm never going to if I don't leave here." Judal laughed bitterly. "But that's never gonna happen. I'm just gonna have to live out the rest of my dumb life as a dumb, boring nobody in a boring peasant village."

"Perhaps you should listen to your heart then," Yunan said. "I see a grand destiny stretched out before you, Judal, and it's going to find you whether like it or not."

"Hah! Yeah, right!" Judal laughed, then his brow furrowed. "Hey, wait. How did you know my na-"

But Yunan was gone.

Judal sprang to his feet, searching behind jars and crates, but there was no sign of him. Only the littering of peach pits on the packed dirt floor gave any clue that Judal had been anything but alone.

Judal stood there, shaking in the dark. Destiny. Dungeons. Yunan the Wanderer, and the three magi who guided the the world. The wandering magi who called the first dungeon, and Yunan's words that Judal's destiny was coming for him.

Judal returned to his home and lay sleepless in his bed until dawn came.

The next week passed in a blur. Judal slept little, ate less, and did his work in a dreamy haze. Was Yunan the wandering magi? If so, what business did he have telling Judal any of this? What would a magi want with him?

On the dawn of the eighth day, Judal rose before the cock's crow. He gathered from the house clothes, and a bag of peaches, and water, and, chiefest of all, his wand. His family had no coin to spare for journeying so he took none.

"Goodbye," he said to the silent house. "I can't write, so I can't really leave you any sort of message, but…" Judal made a choked noise. "Fuck it. I'll see you all again, someday, maybe, and when I do, you'll…" He smiled weakly. "You'll be proud."

The worn dirt road was familiar under Judal's bare feet for now, but he knew once he reached the next town it would be as foreign to him as the sea. But he would follow it to that village, and to the next, and then next, until he reached the capitol and on until...


	2. The Blind King

Hakuryuu was no stranger to the whispers of courtiers. Gossip was a second language to him, learned at a young age after fire marred his flesh and upturned his world. He knew perfectly the meaning of a sleeve raised to cover a horrified mouth, or the twisted turn of a smile that both pitied and feared his scars. He knew how to watch for them in people, to root out those who could not look past appearances, and how to ignore the hurt their whispers could deal. But when it came to overhearing whispers about his brother, well…

They called him the Blind King, and it was true. Hakuyuu had given much for Kou: his youth to fighting for it, and his very body to defending it. The flames that had taken Hakuryuu's left took far more from his brother. The Blind King was weak, his detractors would say; this new king was weaker than his father before him. What good is a king who cannot fight? What good is an Emperor who needs aid?

Hakuryuu ground his hands to fists and locked his jaw shut like a trap as he passed a whispering circle of bureaucrats who promptly silenced themselves as he passed. He focused on the sting of his nails biting into his palms to keep from striking back with words of his own.

 _All Emperors need aides,_ he thought to himself. _That's why you worthless cretins have jobs._

Hakuryuu pushed open the door to the library drawing room where his brothers were waiting, and bowed upon his entrance.

"Ah! Hakuryuu!" Hakuren called, waving at him from his seat on the table. "Good, good! Glad to see you could make it."

"Of course. It is my honor to answer your call."

"Then we're just waiting on Kouen," Hakuyuu said, leaning back in his chair. He was still dressed in his Imperial robes from his court session earlier in the day, and he blew a sigh up past his nose to make the beads sway.

"There were more bureaucrats speaking ill of you in the halls on my way here, brother," Hakuryuu said, his eyes cast down. "I really think you ought to-"

Hakuyuu waved a hand. "It matters little what men who whisper say. They are too weak of heart to say it aloud and too weak of body to overcome me." He smiled slyly.

Hakuryuu frowned, his lower lip jutting out. "I just… I worry, brother! What if one of them came upon you when you were alone, or-"

"The only difference between my sight and our father's," Hakuyuu said, running his fingertips through the beads of his imperial crown, "is that anyone trying to sneak up on me knows that I can't see an inch beyond these beads, and that makes them less cautious." He laughed. "I have no idea how Father ever held an honest court in this hat! I can't help but wonder if he was taking naps behind it."

Hakuren laughed and pulled the crown off Hakuyuu's head, putting it on himself. "You're right, it is pretty hard to see past these things!" He pushed the curtain of white jade beads aside to grin at Hakuryuu. "You should try this thing on, too, Ryuu. It's a trip. As in you'll trip and fall wearing them!" He laughed boisterously at his own joke.

Hakuryuu smiled awkwardly in reply and shook his head. "I couldn't- No. No, that's alright, brother."

Hakuren shrugged and put the crown down on the table. "Suit yourself."

The door opened again, and Kouen entered with a bow. "You called for me, Your Majesty?"

"Ah, Kouen." Hakuyuu smiled. "Then we can begin. Please, have a seat." He gestured broadly to the table, and Kouen took a seat opposite Hakuryuu. Hakuren slid off the table and into an actual chair as well. "I'm certain you are wondering why I've called you here… Well, wonder no longer." He gestured towards Hakuren. "Dearest brother, what would you say was the true passage to manhood for the two of us? And I swear, Ren, if you answer with some perverted joke, I will find where you sleep."

Hakuren laughed. "You know where I sleep. But probably the turn of military service we did with father to help unite Kou."

Hakuyuu nodded, pleased by his brother's answer. "And tell me, Hakuren, what element of our tour of duty do you think is most applicable to a country in peacetime?"

This Hakuren thought about a bit longer, mulling over his response. Beside him, Kouen sat white knuckled, as if he knew the answer and longed to be asked to give it. "Probably," Hakuren said finally, "touring the country and becoming aware of the different cultures of each part of our land." This was obviously not the answer Kouen had expected, and he whipped his head to stare at Hakuren. Hakuren laughed at Kouen's reaction. "We may have done much to make Gou and Kai one unified nation with us, but there's still a lot of work to be done."

"Splendidly put," Hakuyuu said, bringing his fist down upon the drawing table. "Hakuryuu, our father worked tirelessly to create a unified country where none should ever have to know the pain and suffering of war. Your brother and cousins and I have all fought to see this come to dream carried out. But you are not a prince born to war time. You were born just as we celebrated our first great victory over Kai and declared the existence of our glorious and dazzling empire." Hakuyuu stood then, striding the length of the room and gesturing as he did so. "To carry out our father's dream is to carry out the spirit of it; simply continuing to expand our borders without understanding the people is incongruous with our ideals. Thus, it is my opinion that you must travel." He turned (mostly) back to the table. "And it is for that purpose that I have called you, Kouen."

Kouen sat to attention. "Your majesty?"

"Kouen, my brother is young. While we may have been at war at younger ages, I believe such a responsibility for a child to be unwise. Thus, it is my wish that you serve as chaperone to accompany him to visit our lands and see how the people there live."

Kouen looked uncomfortable at the request. "With all due respect your majesty, I do not feel I am the most worthy or qualified to teach Prince Hakuryuu the feelings of Kou's people. Perhaps Prince Hakuren-"

Hakuren shook his head. "Unfortunately I have to stay here. There's dignitaries visiting soon and, well, someone has to butter them up with a bit of charisma and snake oil."

"I want Hakuryuu to be able to travel without a grand entourage, so that he can better understand and appreciate how the people live," Hakuyuu explained. "And you, Kouen, are the man I trust most to make sure my brother remains safe while traveling."

Kouen looked to Hakuryuu, and Hakuryuu fidgeted under his gaze. He was not particularly close with his eldest cousin. Kouen was an intense man who spent all his waking hours practicing the sword or reading ancient scrolls, and that left him little time to waste on shy young princes.

Kouen's scowl deepened, but he stood anyway, clasping his hands before him and bowing. "If it is your majesty's will, then I shall see it executed to the fullest."

Hakuyuu smiled. "Most excellent."

After their meeting, Hakuren declared they should all spend some time together as brothers and have a good old-fashioned sparring match. Kouen and Hakuryuu sat the first round out, instead watching as the two eldest Ren brothers bowed to each other and squared off to fight.

Kouen sat next to Hakuryuu with a grunt, glancing at him sidelong. Hakuryuu met his glance with a worried smile. He had never had cause to spend much time with Kouen, and the idea that they would apparently be going on a long journey together made him wonder how well he could get along with his dour cousin.

Hakuren's opening swings were perfect form, halfway between showroom perfect practice swings and the broad, operatic strikes of a theatre dancer. It was a style that shouted "Look at me! Look at me!" and both Kouen and Hakuryuu leaned forward to appreciate their majesty. Against a sighted opponent, Hakuren's feints and misdirections might have been deadly, but Hakuyuu ignored them. When Hakuren finally struck in earnest, Hakuyuu's sword sprung up to knock it away.

Hakuren smirked. "Direct as ever, Yuu."

Hakuyuu smiled in return, inclining his head. "And you're as showy and wasteful as ever it sounds like."

"My brother is so cruel!"

The two traded more blows, Hakuren dramatic and powerful and Hakuyuu precise and fluid. After a few minutes, it was clear who the better swordsman was, but the two still sparred, back and forth, laughing at each other as they did.

Kouen turned his gaze on Hakuryuu again. "You do… swordplay, yes?"

Hakuryuu nodded. "Yes. Though I'm not. I'm not very good."

"Then practice harder."

Hakuryuu clenched his fists in his pant legs and nodded. Of course; youth was no excuse. He would have to work hard to earn his cousin's respect. "Um. Do you have other hobbies besides swordplay? Like, my sister and I-"

"I have my studies."

"Oh." Hakuryuu was quickly learning that Kouen was a man with little need for small talk, and he wondered if his cousin found his attempts to connect irksome.

Hakuyuu sent Hakuren sprawling, and Hakuren rolled into the fall dramatically. "Oooh, ouch, ouch, that really smarted!"

Hakuyuu laughed. "You're so dramatic!" He kicked at Hakuren and missed. "Besides, I know your style too well. It's no challenge!" He glanced in the direction of the tree under which Hakuryuu and Kouen sat. "Kouen, Hakuryuu, does one of you want to fight me next?"

Hakuryuu shook his head. "N-no! I could never... " The idea of trying to practice with his brother with Kouen watching seemed too humiliating. He couldn't show how weak his sword skills were in front of him.

"Kouen then?" Hakuyuu asked.

"I-" Kouen looked ready to protest, but Hakuren cut him off before he had the chance to finish.

"Yeah! Let's see the general and the emperor face off!" Hakuren held out his wooden practice sword. Kouen looked uneasy as he stepped up to take it. Hakuren jogged to the shade of the tree where Kouen had been sitting with Hakuryuu, taking his post to enjoy the show. "This'll be good," Hakuren whispered to Hakuryuu. "These two haven't had a good spar in a while. Kick his ass, Hakuyuu!"

Hakuryuu made an uncomfortable noise in response.

Kouen took an experimental strike at Hakuyuu, who easily dodged it. Hakuyuu did not return the blow, and instead waited for Kouen to take a few more strikes. High, low- testing. There was a pause as both men stood perfectly still, and then Kouen sprung to action with a shout, and their swords became a perfect dance, the clacking of wood on wood playing the tune of their battle.

After a few traded strikes, however, Hakuyuu frowned. "I said not to go easy on me, Kouen. Come at me with everything you've got! That's an order!"

Kouen ground his teeth and gripped his sword tighter, and he glared at Hakuyuu without saying anything. Hakuyuu waited impatiently, a look of annoyance on his face. That annoyance, or perhaps something else, seemed to trigger something within Kouen, and a look of great and terrible anger came over his face. Hakuryuu sucked in a breath. He didn't want to watch, but he couldn't look away. Kouen bellowed, a deep sound like a lion's roar, and lunged at Hakuyuu. Hakuyuu stepped gracefully aside, parrying the blow away. From there on, Kouen's movement was savage; not the artful, showy arcs of Hakuren's strikes or the graceful precision movements of Hakuyuu's sword, but the direct, brutal assault of a killer. The crash of his wooden sword against Hakuyuu's was a clattering, dreadful sound, and with each unsuccessful strike, Kouen seemed to grow more enraged, snarling like a beast. Each collision of sword on sword sent tremors through both men's arms. Hakuryuu was glad they weren't sparring with real steal, and with each swing he flinched, waiting to hear the sound of wood on flesh instead of the clash of wood on wood. Hakuren ruffled his hair comfortingly.

"Come on, Kouen!" Hakuren goaded. "Is that the best you've got? You're never gonna beat Yuu that way! I think there's nomads out on the Tenzan Plateau who can hear you!"

"Shut up, Hakuren!" Kouen snarled, narrowly dodging a strike Hakuyuu had snuck into the split second where his guard was lowered. But Hakuyuu was too swift, and swept Kouen's legs from beneath him.

"He's right, Kouen," Hakuyuu said, panting. "You're still leagues behind me. Especially when you bellow like a beast."

Kouen swallowed, eyeing the wooden sword at his throat before casting his eyes down to the ground. "Your majesty humbles me with this defeat. I swear I shall train harder to be a better aid to your majesty's own training."

"Just listen to orders next time and come at me in earnest from the beginning. I don't find it cute or useful to have one of my chiefest generals go easy on me." Hakuyuu sighed, setting his sword aside to offer Kouen a slightly off-kilter hand up, which Kouen accepted. "Don't you ever underestimate any enemy on the battlefield the way you underestimated me here. Is that clear?"

Kouen nodded, looking thoroughly cowed. "Of course, your majesty. My deepest apologies. I have disgraced the Kou army and insulted your majesty. I fully understand that-"

Hakuyuu reached up to ruffle Kouen's hair, which ended up more smacking him in the face. There was a moment of awkward touch, and then they both laughed heartily about it. "Please, Kouen, how many times must I tell you that I'm still just Hakuyuu?"

Kouen flushed. "At least once more, your majesty."

Hakuyuu laughed and glanced around the courtyard. "Do you all want to try coming at me at once?"

Hakuren shook his head with a laugh. "Noooo thank you! I think we've all had quite enough of getting our butts kicked by a blind guy for one day. Maybe you can embarrass us simultaneously when Kouen and Hakuryuu come back from their trip."

Hakuyuu sighed. "Very well… Maybe you'll feel up to going a few rounds then, Hakuryuu."

Hakuryuu hugged his knees and looked down at his feet. The idea of going toe-to-toe with his brother seemed an impossible task, made all the more daunting by the idea that he was supposed to somehow return from this trip as a man in some way.

Hakuryuu didn't feel ready to be a man. He felt very much like a silly little child. Hakuren ruffled his hair, but it did little to assuage the feeling. Hakuryuu politely excused himself with a bow and went off to pack his things.

That night he slept poorly, staring at the canopy of his postered bed and wondering what lay ahead. He had excitement, yes, because the idea of travel was a bit exciting. But going so far from his brothers? With only Kouen? And with the unspoken expectation that he would somehow return more grown up? Hakuryuu felt somewhat ill to his stomach just thinking about it.

Sleeplessness did not delay the morning, however, and before he was quite ready, servants came with breakfast and traveling clothes and a real sword to dress him and prepare him for the day to come. They spirited his bags off to the horses he and Kouen would be taking, and informed Hakuryuu that he should join them as soon as he had eaten.

It was a fight to finish his breakfast through his nerves.

Hakuryuu hurried through the halls, ready to make his brothers proud. He wouldn't let his nerves show, he decided, he would be brave and show just how ready he was to make them-

"Sometimes I wish he'd just die already," a voice said from around a corner. "You'd think the fire would have polished him off, but noooo!"

"He's like a cockroach," said another voice in reply.

"Well, in my opinion," the first voice said, "roaches don't belong in houses, let alone sitting on thrones."

Hakuryuu grit his teeth and tried to just walk past. _Don't listen, they don't matter, it doesn't matter-_

The second voice chuckled darkly. "Well, I don't think we'll have to be worrying too much longer. The Director of the Imperial Household and his assistant have hatched a plan…"

Hakuryuu's hand was on his sword before he could stop himself. No. He wouldn't let this happen, wouldn't let these pigs enact whatever dreadful plot they had designed. He grit his teeth and-

Kouen grabbed his wrist and yanked him backwards into a store room. "What the hell are you doing?"

Hakuryuu struggled. "Hey! Let me go! Those stupid pig bureaucrats- I heard them planning-"

Kouen shook his head. "Yes. I heard."

"Then let me go! I'll- I'll-"

"No." Kouen gripped Hakuryuu's wrist tighter, and the sword crumpled from his grip. "You understand nothing."

Hakuryuu's eyes filled with angry tears, and he pulled against Kouen's iron grip. "You're right! I don't understand! But I hate them, I hate them! I hate what they say about my brother, and I hate what they mean for Kou, and how can you hear that they're thinking of something… something as awful as that and not do anything?"

"Prince Hakuryuu!" Kouen snapped, yanking Hakuryuu close and shaking him. Hakuryuu stared up at Kouen, his eyes wide with fear. If Kouen was telling him not to go after Hakuyuu's detractors, then…. "It will not help Hakuyuu for us to fight now. He knows there are plots in motion against him. If we strike out with force, we will only disgrace Hakuyuu by making his retainers look violent and impetuous." Kouen's grip was like iron, and Hakuryuu winced as it tightened even further. The look of rage in Kouen's face was indescribable. "If taking to our swords would please his majesty, you never would have heard those whispers, Prince Hakuryuu. I would have taken their heads the moment that ugly thought crossed their minds."

Hakuryuu swallowed thickly. "Kou-Kouen… You're hurting me."

Kouen balked a moment, looking baffled, and then released Hakuryuu as though he had shocked him. He took a few steps back and drew a deep breath.

Hakuryuu rubbed the wrist Kouen had grabbed. "So you aren't with those pigs?"

Kouen shook his head. "Never." He paced the small storage room before pausing. "I… I must confess something to you, Hakuryuu. Something I request you keep in full confidence."

"Depends on what that something is," Hakuryuu said. He didn't promise secrecy without knowing what the secret was first.

Kouen nodded and bowed down to one knee before Hakuryuu, his hands clasped before him. "I accepted this mission from his majesty with an ulterior motive in mind. The freedom to move about the kingdom that being your chaperone afforded was too great to pass up."

"And what ulterior motive is that?" Hakuryuu asked, suddenly on the defensive again. He used the toe of his boot to pull his sword closer to him again, not taking his eyes off Kouen.

Kouen lowered his eyes and grimaced. "There is tell that one of the three magi that guide the fate of this world has been reborn in Kou. If I were to find that magi and bring him here, then he would have no choice to recognize Hakuyuu as the true king of Kou. If Hakuyuu had a magi backing him, then none could say he was not the rightful ruler."

Hakuryuu nodded. "Get up, Kouen," he said, trying to channel even an ounce of his brother's charisma and command. "You have my confidence." Kouen's head snapped up, and his eyes were wide with surprise. "I… I too want Hakuyuu to be emperor. He's the smartest, and the kindest, and the strongest out of all of us. I don't want to see whatever cowardly pig those bureaucrats would pick."

"My father, most likely," Kouen growled under his breath, looking disgusted at the very thought. "He's easy enough to manipulate."

Hakuryuu made a face. He didn't much like the idea of seeing his uncle on the throne. "No way. I refuse." He held out a hand to Kouen. "We can look for this magi person while we travel. After all, Hakuyuu just said he wanted me to go around and see how a bunch of different people live. What harm is there in looking for a magi while we do that?"


	3. On the Road, On the River

Judal's journey swiftly taught him lessons that any man with common sense could probably learn on his own. The first was the heartbreakingly familiar lesson that a bag of peaches was not something that actually lasted all that long. Even when he was trying to ration them. The second was that the road that lead out from his village was long in ways he had not understood. Long meant sore feet from their bare slapping on the hot dirt. Long meant more time walking than the dawn-to-dusk labors of the field. Long paired with no more peaches meant a grumbling stomach that would not silence itself.

The first village past his own had received him well enough, and the people there, some distant relatives, took pity on him and outfitted him with a meal and a place to rest his head. But Judal feared they would force him home, and so once again Judal slipped away in the night, laden with snacks to last for as long as he could resist to eat them.

However, he learned one other thing as stormclouds took over the skies and a swearing farmer driving a cart came up beside him, and that was that people will be very generous to clever young men who can keep the rains from making their journeys harder.

The farmer gave Judal a ride in exchange for chasing the clouds away, and threw in a small ration for keeping the temperature pleasant as they rode along. He was a taciturn fellow, disinclined to answer Judal's questions about his work and wares, and Judal quickly bored of trying to talk to him. So, Judal spent his time riding in the back of the cart, instead amusing himself by tricking the rukh into letting him jump the pickled foods the farmer carried in tall barrels in and out of their containers.

It was a few days later when the farmer announced they were almost to his destination, and Judal leapt atop the barrels to stare in wonder at the town ahead. The farmer had mentioned offhand that the town of Tongli was important for its part in shipping the wares to the capitol in Rakushou, but never could Judal have imagined the scope of what lay ahead of him. Below was a town that floated on the water like petals on the wind, or a dream through a lovelorn heart. He could vaguely make out small boats on the water, passing swiftly through the town.

"Hey, old man," Judal said. "You never said the town was built on the water!"

The old farmer scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Sit back down, boy."

"No, hey! How does it do that?" Judal asked. "How do you make a whole town float?"

"It doesn't float," the farmer said, "least most of it doesn't. S'not built on the water, the water's built into it. Canals."

The explanation did little to temper Judal's wonder, and he lept from the cart and into the air, buoyed on a gust of wind. "Canals…" He turned back to the stunned farmer, grinning. "Well, thanks for the ride! I'm going to go and investigate this stuff closer."

And with that he shot off, clearing the rest of the road to where the streets became narrow, paved footpaths beside wide waterways. The first thing that became apparent as he landed, apart from the sights, was the smell- a bit like sewage, a bit like the smell of the stagnant runoff from the autumn rains, a bit like salt and fish and something else Judal couldn't place his finger on. It wasn't necessarily a pleasant smell, but it was new, and Judal took a deep breath to savor every last drop of it. This was the smell of a real city, full of people and excitement and all that the world had to offer.

Then Judal's stomach growled, and he nearly collapsed from hunger. Perhaps, in retrospect, flying the rest of the way in an arrow-fast whirlwind had been a reckless idea. Judal slumped against the whitewashed wall of a house, watching people pass by and wondering how on earth his ingenious plan could have gone so awry.

Judal's mouth watered as a young man walked past, munching on a strip of seasoned meat on a skewer, and Judal nearly followed after him, as though the mere sight of someone else's food could satisfy his rumbling stomach. He made the smarter choice instead and followed instead the way the man had came, where his eyes and nose led him to a wide street populated with carts selling all manner of easy-to-eat treats from meats to sugared haws on skewers.

Though it pained him, Judal turned away from the seller with the haws and went instead to the man selling meats. "I'd like three please," he said.

"Three fan." The man plucked three skewers from the grill and held out a hand to take Judal's money.

Unfortunately, Judal had none. "Um. Is there a way I could-"

"Three fan," the man repeated. "Or no food."

Judal bit his lip and turned away, feeling foolish. Of course he'd have to pay. These people didn't know who he was. He was no great rainbringer here, and nothing like the magi in Yunan's story, who probably got to eat all the free food they wanted.

And then Judal had an idea.

He circled back around through the crowd, watching for a moment when the meat seller was distracted with another transaction, wand drawn. Then, when that moment came, he gripped his wand, whispering to the rukh and calling to the meat like he had called the pickles from the barrel. The first time it failed, and Judal edged closer, waiting, watching. Like pickles from a barrel. From one place to another. Just a simple displacement of…

Two skewers appeared in his open hand, and Judal grinned in triumph.

He turned to vanish again into the crowd, but, spotting the sugared haw vendor once more, he paused. Practice did make perfect after all…

Twenty minutes later, and several teleported delights richer, Judal sat down at the edge of the canal to watch the boats pass by and dug into his flavorful meat skewer. Some were obviously pleasure boats, where people with more money than he'd ever seen drifted along doing whatever it was people who didn't need to labor to live did with all their free time. Others were merchant ships, heavy with barrels and crates headed south to the capitol. Judal had never thought that wares and foods might have travelled south by boat, but now, seeing the way the people of Tongli had reshaped the land to harness the river and pave their paths with water, it seemed to him a perfectly clever and elegant solution. Judal pitched the bamboo skewer into the river and started on his next strip of meat. He wondered if he could cajole his way onto a ship to make his way to Rakushou. Surely boatmen could find some use for a magician with a gift for wind and water. Perhaps if he figured out a way to speed the ships up by pushing them along….

Judal pulled the last fatty hunk of meat off the skewer, chewing it over as he mentally chewed the issue of how to make a ship go faster. If it was sailed, it would be easy; simply call the wind. Most of the junks laden with goods seemed to have at least one sail… Judal nodded and swallowed the hunk of fat. That could work. A few drops of rain pricked the back of Judal's shirt, so he grabbed his sugared haw skewers and made for the cover of the overhanging roofs of the narrow alleyways.

He slept there in the alleyway that night, the sound of the rain turning to music as it bounced and flowed along roof tiles and wooden gutters, joined in a duet by the low slush of the canal. It would have been very romantic and soothing had Judal been somewhere warm and dry, but huddled in his dirty travelling clothes in a damp, barely sheltered alley left him feeling homesick and cold. In the moments between sleep, Judal resolved that if he was ever telling the story of his adventure, he would lie and say that at this moment he'd been safely inside, in a bed softer than any he'd ever slept in.

* * *

Across the canal, atop a watchtower, a guard called out the hour of the morning for all to hear. Judal stirred from his slumber at the noise, glancing around. Sunlight had begun to bathe Tongli in the warm light of morning, and already the canal was filled with ships large and small. Excitement made him clearheaded and alert in spite of his damp clothes, and Judal hopped back up to his feet to explore the city further.

He followed alongside the canal, watching as the city came awake. Even here, where there weren't orchards to tend, most were up with the sun: men on land shouting orders to men on boats, boys who shuffled wares from house to canal, women ordering the men or airing out blankets or gossiping amongst each other. Judal crossed over a stone bridge packed with people, and the sheer sound of it all really took hold. In his village, once you got away from the houses and the orchards, there was the quiet of nature, with only the soft fluttering of the rukh of the wind and the trees. But here in Tongli, the rukh of seemingly innumerable people filled the town with a blinding brilliance and the tinkling flutter of thousands of invisible wings.

Judal stood in the center of the bridge, staring and taking the scope of it all in for a long while.

Then, he started to walk again. Slow at first, letting the pull of the rukh guide him- he crossed the bridge he was on and followed the fluttering to another bridge, this one decorated with images of leaping fish. It crossed high over a wide canal, but Judal did not stop to gawk at the fisher-boats below. He was instead fascinated by the thrum of the city, the scope of the buildings, some on stilts, others on stone bases, and all the manner of smells and sounds that surrounded him. A third bridge brought him closer to the water than he'd been before as its wood and rope swayed precariously. After that though, he felt exhilarated. It was only the thought of Yunan, mysterious and austere in his… whatever it was that Yunan had been doing, that kept Judal from racing along the water's surface on the wind.

The rukh guided him to a hanging garden of wysteria and willows and ponds, ringed in wavering pathways to chase off evil spirits. Judal walked them, hoping to no avail to find an unattended fruit tree. Eventually he settled before a pond, watching the fat fish inside swim lazily about. He sighed and let the sound of the rukh wash over him. He was still so far from the capitol… And now, in Tongli, he realized he had no idea what he'd do if he even reached Rakushou. What, was he just expecting to walk up there and… find his destiny? Bump into one of the princes his father and grandfather had served under and be recognized as an equal?

Judal dipped his fingers into the pond, gently swirling them around and startling the koi. All Yunan's talk of magi… it couldn't have been for nothing. It had to mean something, why else would he have disappeared like a fairy tale so soon after?

Still, Judal was having a hard time imagining himself some grand magi of creation. The most powerful sorcerer of his age, sure, he could live with something like that. But a magi? Someone who was supposed to know what was best for the whole world? Fuck, Judal didn't even know how to read or write, let alone how to pick someone fit to rule the world!

Yet he felt it, deep within his soul. That weird tug that there was something, somewhere that he was supposed to find. He had always guessed everyone felt that, because being a peasant sucks. But maybe….

"Don't you come any closer!"

Judal was jolted from his reverie by a startled, frightened shout from over the garden wall. He pulled his eyes up from the koi pond and stared, wondering if the voice would shout again.

"Please, I swear that's all I have!"

Judal rose and crossed to the wall, silently leaping atop it with a burst of wind and gravity magic. Below, he saw a man, much older than himself, cornered by a comely young woman with a short sword and a few other street toughs. The woman spat on the man's shoes and held her sword in his direction.

"Do you really think we believe that? A fat merchant like you's sure to have some more goodies on him somewhere… Or did you leave your gold back on that barge with your common sense?"

Judal leaned his cheek into his palm as he watched the mugging unfold. He had heard that large towns were dangerous, but he'd never imagined he'd get to do something so exciting as watching a mugging unfold in person. Still, as he watched the merchant's blubbering turn incoherent with fear, Judal found himself wondering what his family would say if they heard he just sat by and watched a guy get mugged for fun. Probably bad things. And what would Yunan say? What would a magi, or even just a really badass sorcerer do?

"Hey!" Judal barked from his seat atop the wall. The assemblage all startled and looked up. "You know, it's real rude to go around robbing people." Damn, that was the best line he had in him? Judal felt lame saying something like that aloud. "You better scram and leave this guy alone, else I'll make you pick on somebody your own size."

The young woman snorted. "Get lost. I don't wanna kill some poor kid for playing hero."

Judal made a show of thinking about it before cracking into a wide, toothy grin. "Nah, I think I'd rather kick your ass." He fished around in his pack, pulling out his peach wand. "I gotta say, all the humidity here suits me just fine! I've been wantin' to practice stuff like this, but people always flipped out if I tried to do it back home!"

"You think you're so tough-"

"Thalg Al-Sarros!" Judal laughed, sending a spear of ice down between the woman and the merchant. Both shouted in surprise, and the woman staggered back. "Oh, shit! That's bigger than I expected!" Judal lept from the garden wall to balance on the tip of the ice spike. It was slipperier than he expected, and Judal windmilled his arms to summon enough balance and wind to keep him upright. Thankfully, the giant spear of ice was still intimidating enough that it went mostly unnoticed. "Still wanna pick a fight with me, lady? I'll mess you up!"

The woman looked at the ice, then at her crew of cowering street toughs, and then made a noise of aggravation, turning tail and running.

Judal grinned, triumphant, and jumped down to where they had stood. This time, he stuck the landing. "So, hey, Old Man… That lady said you were a merchant…" He glanced over his shoulder, trying to look as cool as possible. "Does that mean you got a ship?"

The man, who had soiled himself somewhere in the exchange, nodded wordlessly. Judal frowned a little. Gross.

"Well, then..." He turned around and offered the man a hand. "I'm Judal, Grand Magi of Kou, and I'm lookin' for somebody to get me to Rakushou! You got room in your employ for a little hired magic muscle?"


End file.
